


Until I Am Well and Able

by WrittenTales



Series: Is This Love? [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: 1973, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2535236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenTales/pseuds/WrittenTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn’t—couldn’t tell him this. </p><p>At fucking seventeen, the thing Agron feared the most was fucking losing him. Nasir would laugh and ask him where he was going to go but back to Agron. </p><p>Agron couldn’t tell him, he couldn’t come back to Agron after this. After what the rich doctors told him, Nasir couldn’t possibly come back to Agron this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until I Am Well and Able

**Author's Note:**

> I teared a bit while writing this, but fire starter has got me all up and i just can't. So it's late and i just came up with this idea, which won't be an actual story but a collection of one shots instead.
> 
> So yeah, enjoy my creation which came out of sleep deprivation and my feels. :)  
> I also never had a beta so all the mistakes are mine.

**1973, New York City**

 

“Fuck, babe.” Agron pulled a sweaty clumped stand of hair from Nasir’s forehead, to the back of his ear after Nasir calmed from his terrible cough. Agron almost wanted to punch and kick in the beeping monitor on the left side of the hospital bed, squeaking terrible noises, the only thing that kept Agron knowing if he’ll see Nasir tomorrow. So then again, as he wanted to punch and kick the blasted machine in, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for it to keep singing its atrocious tunes so he knows that the boy he’s sitting beside, his heart is beating so strong.

“Agron.” Those brown eyes that Agron loves to see every day. Those same eyes that he sees on the person who bounds down the hallway at school until he’s in front of him to say his proper greetings that Agron thinks is fucking stupid and corny, like some chick flick but doesn’t have the heart in him to tell him that. The same guy who told the boy with brown eyes that he was afraid of nothin’, not even brown eye’s math teacher who had a temper, but not as bad as Agron’s.

He wouldn’t—couldn’t tell him this.

At fucking seventeen, the thing Agron feared the most was fucking losing him. Nasir would laugh and ask him where he was going to go but back to Agron.

Agron couldn’t tell him, he couldn’t come back to Agron after this. After what the rich doctors told him, Nasir couldn’t possibly come back to Agron this time. Duro left, and he didn’t come home to where Agron waited on his bed, clutching that same damned teddy bear in his large hands that he won Duro at the fair years ago. The bear was worn and the fabric was ridden with holes, an eye socket was sewn shut and some of the stuffing was missing but Duro still looked at it as if it was the most precious thing anyone ever gave him. He never came back that night after the shooting at the theater, the only time he had some left over cash and gave to his baby brother to spend it on himself. The blame never leaves him at night though he learns to deal.

“Can I have your coat?” Nasir smiled and smiled even wider when Agron was shrugging off that plaid colored coat with so many rips and torn edges that Agron began to lose count but helped Nasir’s thin, sickly arms into the material. When he sat back down, it looked like the coat was swallowing Nasir whole and Agron didn’t wince, he was passed the sight of seeing how tiny Nasir became over the last couple months.

The television played silently in the background, but Nasir was never a fan of television in the first place. Agron only ever watched it for sports, which reminded him of football practice that he had in an hour. Then he had to go down to the boxing ring with Gannicus, to earn some extra cash and meet with their trainer who saw them every day except for weekends because that was when Agron and Gannicus were both busy.

Agron remembers ditching football and Gannicus to be with Nasir in central park, drinking cola and Agron stealing candy for Nasir, because Agron couldn’t deny his boy anything he wanted and no one would have missed it anyway.

Nasir knew he had Agron wrapped around his damn pinky finger.The big bad wolf with a temper falling for the lamb that was unfortunate enough to be caught in his path.

“You never kiss me anymore.”

“You know where we are.”

“But I want you too anyway.”

“Nobody can know we’re fags Nasir.”

Nasir gave him a knowingly look and Agron didn’t understand. “Why do you have your pretty head on a side?”

Nasir glanced down, shielding the orbs of brown from Agron’s sight. “You remember the man who raised me? Right?”

It was because he could see the breathing tube underneath Nasir’s nose that stopped him from sneering at the mentioning of that asshole. “How could I forget him?”

“You didn’t care then.” Though it didn’t prevent Agron from glaring, “I didn’t want him to find out about any of it; anything about us! it isn’t my fault that he came home early from fucking work. I always cared. Remember our rule, only in doors **_and_** in private.”

Agron never liked to curse in front of Nasir, who was always picky about coarse language though he used it on occasion. Out of the both of them, Nasir was the one who got the grades and walked the talk, Agron was the one who was stupid, good for nothing but a shadow in Nasir’s golden light. But Agron was older, wiser, and he was the one who kept them both grounded, for both their sakes.

But when Nasir gives Agron the forbidden look, Agron rolls his eyes and kisses him on the forehead, where Nasir grips the front of Agron’s shirt—which was a white short sleeved shirt underneath the plaid coat and pulls him down to kiss his lips with a slow passion.

“Nasir, cool it!” Agron hissed, but kept his forehead on Nasir’s in a way of contact comfort. Nasir laughed and kissed his nose and Agron just sighed at his stubbornness.

Nasir’s ultimate childish behavior might be one of the things that annoyed him profusely about Nasir, though it was a feature Agron didn’t complain about now and then. Nasir made his life brighter from the deep abyss he was falling in, Nasir’s childish side brought him from the adult he was forced to become and into the teenager he yearned to be.

Turning his head, Agron’s forehead still against Nasir’s, Agron almost fainted at how fast the time went.

Sitting down on the hospital bed next to Nasir’s thigh, he ran his hands along Nasir’s back and nuzzled his neck, which made the boy laugh harder. Nasir ran a hand through Agron’s cropped hair and Agron felt himself almost ready to be suffocated by his emotions.

Agron couldn’t deny that Nasir was getting worse, at a fast pace, and neither could he deny that he didn’t have much time left with his boy, unless some fucking miracle fell from the sky and into Nasir. Agron couldn’t stand to watch him rot, couldn’t stand to see him lose another minute to his short life.

Why couldn’t the gods just take Agron instead?

Agron had nothing coming neither going for him, but a quick death or prison. He couldn’t get into a college, couldn’t own a house, he didn’t have anything that could sky rocket him to the fucking stars except the pictures that he draws late at night and stuffs them under his bed or give them to Nasir if he asked for them. Sometimes he found it comical when Nasir demanded to see the pictures he would draw at nights, every fucking day, because Nasir knew Agron. Other then whispered words, Nasir would tell him he had imagination that even the vandalism with the graffiti art on building walls that Agron does on occasion just showed him as a person and how much words don’t explain him or how he feels inside.

Though where did imagination take people like him?

Nasir has passion; Nasir has everything out for him, the stars and moon at his grasp. He loved music, having a great voice and long fingers that could play any instrument Agron could think of. He had the talent and skills to go anywhere and any door of profession he wanted, he could change the fucking world if he wanted too.

But the world had to be so cruel as to slowly take a boy with aspiration and more courage than he ever could have, and make him suffer a cruel death. Then they leave someone like him, who was going to go nowhere but rock bottom.

But heaven probably needed another Angel.

While Hell was slowly licking at his feet.

But Agron would be strong for his boy and hope, even pray for the gods to pass it on to him. Because Agron had all the strength to give but Nasir had no more will to take. So he would make sure he would, force him if he has too.

He would fucking climb mountains for him, even if he didn’t ask him too.

Then he would wonder how a boy with big brown eyes and a soft able heart easily slipped through the cracks of his.

“I love you.” Agron mumbled and Nasir hummed in response, finally at peace.

“I’m tired Agron.” Nasir trembled, the shakes even coming on through the protection of Agron’s coat. “So tired.” A tear rolled down Nasir cheeks and he stared at the white, plain and boring walls of the hospital room, slowly hypnotizing into the nothingness that was slowly becoming him.

Agron wrapped the coat tighter around Nasir’s shoulder and he breathed in, trying to hold back his sadness as he kissed his boy’s forehead once again. Willing his strength to pass through him to his weak love, leaving his heart with him, and hoping to return back to it still beating.

“There’s no time to sleep babe, I got somethin’ for ya.”

When Nasir heard Agron, sniffle, it has to be the first time Nasir ever seen physical sadness in Agron. For Agron, such a strong man with an even stronger sense of pride, even when Agron almost lost his hand from a saw accident, he never gave the impression that he was under any pain. That simple sign of affection meant everything to Nasir that Agron didn’t understand. This is what he fought for. He fought for Agron as Agron willingly fights for him in a battle Nasir didn’t think neither he nor Agron, the strongest person he knew, could win.

Agron presents to him a sketch; Nasir looks from his face and takes the picture from his hands and smiles.

“You exaggerate a bit. But it’s perfect.”

It’s a picture of Nasir, as he was before, with curly, wavier hair, a brighter smile and more muscle, he was healthy. He was sitting on a bench, the sign that said central park was cut off at the edge but there’s a sunset.

Nasir likes sunsets.

His hospital window doesn’t have a nice view, just showing the sides of old buildings and smoke from passing trucks with only a corner glance of the sky. It’s depressing, but if—when Nasir was suppose to die, he wishes he could see the sun.

Or maybe Agron was all he needed.

“I wish I could see the sun one last time.” He mumbled more to himself then speaking to Agron, and sighs and yearns of a wish that could never happen.

“You’ll be here to see many sunsets… and sunrises.” Agron promises before he leans in to kiss Nasir’s lips one more time before he goes. Rules be damned.

Feeling Nasir caress his ear, Agron smirked. “I love you too.” Nasir reciprocated Agron’s look. “Have fun at practice, and having a life.”

Agron chuckled softly, running his thumb over Nasir’s hand that touched the shell of his ear, before getting up. “You’ll get to yours soon if you just hurry up and get well.” Agron threw his backpack over his shoulder, placing the textbooks and some mystery book (Nasir fucking loves mysteries and history books) on the table beside the bed from the library that Nasir demanded which gave Agron the sudden use of his library card. But he placed it where Nasir just liked it.

“I’m trying, I really am.” Nasir whines and hits his head against the soft pillow.

“I know babe, I know. Keep the coat.”

“Really?”

“Like it’s the first time, you’re a bigger thief than I am.” Agron points out.

“Don’t remind me.”

Agron just chuckles and before he closes the door shut Nasir yells that he wants it opened and Agron does just that.

When Agron walks out into the cool November air, coat-less but feeling a bit lighter, he thinks of Nasir’s wish to see the sun, one last time.


End file.
